Page 9 of Goblin Candy

“I really hope you don’t plan to eat all of those!” she calls after me.

“Every single one!” I shout back before slipping into the hall that will take me to the elevator.

The ride up to the top floor feels excruciatingly long. Far longer than normal. My tail taps on the elevator wall impatiently as I stare down at the little sweet cakes mocking me with their fanged smiles. I smile back at them and slide my tongue over my own sharp teeth as I contemplate which one to chomp first. That they resemble fanged bats doesn’t perturb me in the least. Instead, my mouth salivates in anticipation.

Unable to wait and all alone within the elevator, I open the lid and remove a cupcake. Outside of the box, the light fragrance of my female clings even more acutely to the little cake, and I run my tongue along the frosted edge with a moan, capturing the layered flavors on my sensitive tongue. A shiver runs up my spine, and then I bite into the cake, the full complexity of flavors so satisfying that I can’t contain my little moan of pleasure.

In two more bites it’s gone, and I’m reaching for a second that I’m in the process of unpeeling from its wrap when the elevator doors open on my floor. I promptly devour it as I bolt to my room. It’s a short distance away, but already a third cupcake is calling to me now that my body has memorized the pleasure of the taste of chocolate and the unique taste of Candy mingled together. They aren’t professionally made, nor are they the best-looking cupcakes I’ve ever seen, but her scent and taste mingled into the richness of the chocolate makes them the most delicious I’ve ever tasted.

The third I eat shortly after entering my room, and I chew it slower, savoring the taste as I wisely set the box, and what’s left of its contents, aside. If I weren’t already hard, eating that cupcake and consuming the trace of my mate’s scent, taste, and pheromones on it has left my cock harder than cursed iron. Palming my dick, I grab a handful of Skittles from the bowl on the table beside it and toss them into my mouth as I head to the bed and plop down on it.

It’s tempting to just whip it out and stroke myself, but sadly it does little good. All it would do would make matters worse, making the pain and lust rise even quicker. It is an ironic quirk of fate that despite how eager goblins are to find pleasure, our anatomy is incapable of finding completion by our own efforts alone. Still, the bite of discomfort makes my appetite for my mate sharper. I embrace the ache, though I tilt my hips to press my cock more firmly against my hand.

Lying back, I run my tongue over the roof of my mouth where Candy’s taste still lingers among a hint of chocolate that the Skittles couldn’t quite wipe away. My hand squeezes, my claws pricking my cock, and I moan softly. My back arches as I let out a soft hiss. I lie there, rolling my tongue repeatedly within my mouth and over my lips to capture every bit of her flavor. There is a musky sweetness that is better than the most decadent treat.

I want more of it. I want to taste it directly from the source. A shiver of desire hits me hard, and with it the ache of my lust rises. From deep within my belly, a true monster moves. It uncoils and stretches out through me, seeking fulfillment and the satisfaction of the need gnawing at me. It hungers for the hunt. Generations of goblin instinct rolls through me, demanding that I leave here and track her.

The need is far more vicious than I expected, but then I probably should have prepared myself at least a little the moment I scented and recognized her. Like fairies who are close kin to my race, goblins are also prone to hunting. It is part of our most primal instincts. Unlike our fairy cousins, however, it is reserved only for our mates. It’s something anticipated by the couple, or whatever family unit is decided upon since it is not uncommon for multiple males to agree to share a female, and plans are made in terms of who is the hunter and who is the prey. The hunt is an equal celebration among goblins with carefully maintained bonfires within the forests. That I’ve found my mate so close to the hunt makes my instinct to claim her run through me until I’m raw with need.

I shudder and writhe on the bed, my hands clutching at the bedding to keep myself from breaking free of my room. A growl rolls restlessly in my throat, and the sheets rip loudly beneath my claws. Every now and then, I jump to my feet and grab a cupcake and eat it frantically to take the edge off before dropping down onto the bed again and squeezing my cock hard enough that the pain gives me some minor relief with its rush of pleasure.

Gradually, a cold sweat breaks over me as my muscles strain for what feels like hours against my will. My chest rising and falling rapidly with my breathing, I glance toward the bedside clock. The sun began its descent some time ago. I can tell by the shift in the room’s light. But I want the time. The library had hours posted for the carnival and I don’t wish to be around a crowd when I hunt my mate again. I want her home when I let myself loose to track her, where I can claim her space as my own. I blink and focus on the blurry numbers until they sharpen, and my breath punches out of me on a gasp.

Nine. It has been five hours. I glance down at the torn bedding beneath my claws, and my lips twist in a grimace that feels almost feral with the way my fangs dig into my bottom lip. The library carnival has been closed for over two hours now. She must be home and stripped of her witch’s costume by now.

My cock pulses eagerly at the thought of her being naked. Perhaps warm from the shower where she would have washed off the heavy paint that had been on her face. I fight back the need to race out the door in pursuit and instead stuff another cupcake into my mouth, allowing her flavor to soak into my system and calm me enough that I tear the clothes from my body and head into the shower, where I clean myself from head to toe. The cool temperature of the water does little to take the edge off my lust, but at least I’m clean and refreshed, ready to hunt once more for my mate.

I feel a momentary pinch of guilt. She’s not expecting me until tomorrow. I will still keep to that. I just need to see her, to drink in her scent and leave my mark so that no other males approach her home. It is an effective deterrent while still keeping to the rules of the game. I have to hunt and rely on my abilities rather than simply follow her, and I’m doing so only after making my intentions and interest known to her. It’s not a blind hunt, and that’s what’s important. That’s what separates us from our fairy kin. I won’t even track her from the library since that would be unsporting. The hunter isn’t allowed any advantages.

I grin to myself as I pull on clean clothes and slip from my room. A goblin female would have been fully aware of what I was doing and leaving false trails everywhere for me. Since my mate doesn’t possess the same information, I must help her out as much as I can.

With an excited shriek, I tear from the hotel at a full-out run, sucking in deep breaths to locate any trace of her in the air. I have her unique musk ingrained within me now so that once I catch even a hint of it, I can track it anywhere. My little mate will soon understand exactly what it is to be hunted by a goblin.

Laughing wildly, I disappear into the trees of what appears to be a small park. The hunt is on!

CHAPTER7

CANDY

Yawning, I pull on my oversized Black Sabbath T-shirt. It is old and worn, and two sizes too big for me. Paired with my fuzzy black sleep pants, I’m wonderfully comfortable. As much fun as I’ve had today, I’m also glad to be home. Even if it issanscupcakes. It seems that someone managed to buy them out from under me after all.

Not that I really need the chocolate. Or rather, I have plenty of snacks squirreled away in my apartment to keep me in a sugar overload for weeks. Not to mention the bags of candy I’ve got stashed for the trick or treaters on Halloween. Surely a few Milky Way bars to go along with my popcorn wouldn’t be missed. Although my horror-thon is planned for tomorrow to take advantage of my scheduled day off, it unofficially begins tonight.

I slip my feet into my vampire bunny slippers and leave my bedroom. My apartment is teeny. It barely takes more than a handful of steps to get from bedroom to the kitchen, but I like to think that the space has character. Maybe it’s the Pinhead poster on the wall, or the many little bizarre and creepy curios I’ve collected over my life from my travels. Not to mention the black stained cabinets containing bones and various ingredients for spellwork. One wall alone is devoted to the various blades I’ve collected because daggers and swords are sexy as fuck. Yes, the place definitely has character.

On route to the kitchen, I wiggle my fingers in greeting at my pet tarantula Wynx the Pixie Devourer. As bright and colorful as any adult Green Bottle Blue tarantula, he is a beauty as he scurries up onto the webbing draped over the fake skull in his terrarium. I like to think it’s a greeting despite our strictly observed no-touchy policy, and so I blow a kiss in his direction as I walk into the kitchen.

Singing “This is Halloween” under my breath, I head directly for the cabinet and dig out the microwave popcorn. My gaze falls on the marshmallow pumpkins just as I get to the line about Pumpkin Jack and I grin and grab those too. Fate is a difficult bitch to ignore. If she wants me to have tasty little pumpkins, who am I to deny her?

With my prizes in my hands, I dump them beside the microwave and hunt from a large plastic bowl. My microwave is a cantankerous beast that requires a higher guesstimated time and an ear on it at all times when dealing with popcorn, but I unwrap the flat little paper bag, toss it in, and start the timer as I try to recall what movies are available on my streaming services. After the encounter with the goblin that my shower hadn’t managed to entirely cool down, I’m hot and bothered enough to want something smoldering along with the gore.

Vampires it is!

The question is do I want old hotness or new hotness. I’m such a sucker for the old schoolLost Boyslook, but Gary Oldman as Dracula is enough to get any red-blooded woman’s panties wet. Just recalling Lucy in the garden is enough to make me catch my tongue between my teeth with a shiver of excitement. I mean, I’ve read the novel and know that the movie is far more erotic than the disturbing scene that was penned, but it’s one of those cases where I can appreciate the film more than the book for exactly that reason. Call me a monster fucker if you want, but that scene always gets me going.

I won’t lie and say that the idea of hooking up with a monster hasn’t intrigued me since more and more fae beings have passed through our world. I’ve just been slow to move on it, looking for the right guy because I’m the type to want the whole mate shebang. The possibility of a night of passion with a male who turns out to bemyfated mate is complete catnip to me. Which brings my thoughts back to the goblin. I’ve rebuffed a few offers from nice enough males, but it was Grimsal who made something inside me sit up and really take notice. And I do try to pay attention to what fate thrusts my way.

The popping from the microwave slows down, and I smash the button so that it opens, the scent of buttery goodness seeping through the kitchen. Dumping the popcorn into a bowl, I abandon it long enough to grab the bag of Milky Way bars and a two liter of Cherry Coke from the fridge. Tucking the two-liter bottle under my arm, I grab the popcorn and pumpkins from the counter and head back to the living room where my bounty is promptly deposited on the coffee table beside the licorice whips that I had forgotten I had left here. Oh well—the more the merrier!

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